Dark At It's Brightest

Chapter - 21 - Family reunion.

The sudden sound of something crashing down woke me up. My eyes lingered open and gazed around the room before meeting another pair. A woman. She was straightening the medicine bottles before gazing down on me. She had dark blond hair and dark brown eyes that made her pale skin look unnatural. She had a white robe

"Sorry! I didn't mean to wake you..." She smiled at me.

"Where am I?" I asked seriously confused. My head hurt and my shoulder felt unnaturaly numb.

"I'm Alexis, your nurse." She looked at me and offered me a hand. When she realized that I couldn't move my right shoulder, not even talking about my arm, she put it down.

"I'm sorry we had to meet this way. Michael brought you in here and said that you need help. I hope you don't mind staying here a little longer..." Her brown eyes were digging holes into my forehead.

I looked around the room searching for someone when I noticed Michael. He stood in the doorway and hadn't said a word. He ignored my eyes and looked at Alexis. I didn't know what I felt against him. He lied to me this whole time but when I was kidnapped he rescued me? I was angry, confused, frustrated, relieved and regretfull.

I had to deal with the thought that my dad and brother were still being held hostage.

"Can we talk?" I looked at Michael my gaze looking for his eyes which were ignoring mine as hard as they could.

"I'll be outside... Callme if you need anything." Alexis gave me a glance and walked outside before whispering something to Michael.

"What are you up to?" I imideately asked him when Alexis closed the door.

"I'm up to keeping you safe. Look I know we had a little misunderstanding before, but now..."

"A little misunderstanding? That's what you call it?" I noticed as I started to sit up holding my weight on my left arm."You lied to me. Everything you told me was a lie. You told me you care and then you throw me into a cold cell, where I am tied up to a chair and later - on your supervision - torn apart by a dog. What is wrong with you?" The blood pumping through my veins was like fire.

"You don'tunderstand. Would you atleast let me explai..."

"No! No, I don't understand you at all. And from where I stand - I don't want to either. Just leave me be..."

Silence grew between us. I hadn't said the fourth of the things I wanted to say to him. I wanted to yell. I wanted to blame him for killing my mother even though I knew it wasn't him. I wanted to blame him for lying to me. I wanted to blame him for kidnapping my brother - again. I wanted to blame him for kidnaping my mom and dad. It was scary to know that I had all that anger inside of me. I was scared of letting it all go and flow out of me. I was afraid of what I could do.

It was like being drunk for the first time. You don't know how you will act. How you will speak, see, walk. Will you be the speak-all-of-you-problems-out-and-than-fall-asleep-on-the-ground kind of drunk or the spill-all-of-your-dirtiest-secrets-and-sleep-with-some-random-guy-thinking-he's-Brad-Pit drunk. You never know what you'll do when you aren't the one controling your body anymore.

The silence lasted longer and Michael didn't leave the room. He kept staring at me. This time he didn't turn away when I looked him in the eyes and it became more awkward by the second.

I turned away.

"Your father is dead." He whispered.

"Excuse me?"

He knew that I had heard that. A big lump in my throat began to rise upwards. I motioned my head out of my bed and threw up not minding the pain in my shoulder. Atleast now I was sure my right arm was there, where it was supposed to be - on my shoulder.

The liquid flow out of me even though it seemed like I hadn't eaten anything in decades. Nothing was left in me. My stomach was complitely empthy. Good thing Michael reacted quickly and grabbed the trash when the entire contents of my stomach was not yet on the ground. I didn't care that I was angry at Michael, I let him comfort me anyways. The only thing that I needed now - was my father and mother. They always found what to say even in a situation like this.

My dad was the nicest person on earth. When I was little my life plan was to grow up and be like him. Allways, when I was ill he read me stories. We just sat in my bed and read stories all day long. Those were the best days a six-year-old could ever ask for, even when I was sick.

He had brown eyes and dark brown hair. His hair allways was short cut althought, when it was grown longer than usual, you could see small locks forming behind his ears and his neck.

He worked as a photographer in some sports magazine, but also made photos of anything he thought was photo-worthy. Photography was his passion for the most of his life. He had a lot of clients but most of them used his servise once or twice a year so no one had noticed he was missing so long. And if someone had they must've thought he had moved to another country or just didn't work as a photographer anymore. The only place he would be noticed missing would be his work,  I bet The Man had taken care of that too since no one asked anything about a missing person.

He allways told me about his past and childhood. He told me that he lived in the good old days, when partying was considered drinking till the world ends and dancing like the grownd was on fire, not sitting in the far corner of some dark allay and doing drugs, like the teenagers do in our century. The good old days was the time when he met my mother.

My mother had dark hair too. She had light blue eyes and dark brown chocolate skin no matter what time of the year it was. My father said that he met my mother at an outdoor party or even a festival. It was in the middle of the summer and it was raining but no matter the weather they had a good time. From listening to father it wasn't hard to recognize that those were the happy memories from his younger years. At that time my mom and dad started seeing each other and after a while I came along. They got married and got to know about me only a week after the wedding. They said that those were one of the two best news they have heard. After six years along came my brother Toby. I was lucky I got a new baby brother. We were a happy family.

We were. Not anymore.

Both of my parents are dead. 

What do I do now?

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